


Honey and Lemon

by breakfastbeebo



Series: Ryden One-shots [3]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakfastbeebo/pseuds/breakfastbeebo
Summary: Brendon agreed to love Ryan 'in sickness and in health'- even if that sickness meant the wakeup call of horrendous hour-long coughing fits.





	

At first, Brendon just kind of ignored it. He was curled up on his side of the bed, Penny lying against his chest and head tucked under his own, far too tired to move and acknowledge Ryan’s attempt at muffling his cough. It was short enough that Brendon didn’t even have time to open his eyes before the bed shifted as Ryan moved around and then went silent again. It happened again about a half hour later, and Penny was actually the first one to get up and move over to Ryan. Brendon was able to sleep through it for the first hour, but the next three tested both his hearing and patience.

“Are you choking?” Brendon asked quietly, rubbing his eyes and rolling over to face Ryan. When he lowered his hands, he expected to see Ryan’s face across from his own, but Ryan was sitting up, arm up over his face as he coughed. “Ryan?”

He gave Brendon a thumbs up with his other hand as his body began lurching forward. “F-Fine.”

“You sure don’t sound it.” Brendon countered flatly, pushing himself up into the sitting position beside Ryan. Dottie scrambled to sit between them, looking up at Ryan with her wide round eyes. “Are you coming down with something?”

“Don’t know.” Ryan replied, his voice scratchy and quiet. After his two words, he began coughing again.

“You sound _terrible_.” Brendon noted, making a slightly disgusted face as Ryan continued to sound like he was seconds away from vomiting all over their bed.

“Thanks, Brendon. I feel better already.” He muttered, glaring at Brendon over his arm. Although, his narrowed eyes and stern expression had less impact when it was interrupted by a cough. “Good to know in our vows you were insincere about the ‘in sickness’ part.”

“Oh come on- I meant it!” Brendon laughed, moving Dottie aside to be able to sit shoulder to shoulder with Ryan. “What can I do? What’s wrong?”

“My throat hurts. And my chest and head. And my whole body.” Ryan sighed, hunching over and placing his head in his hands; the coughing fit seemed to have exhausted him, but he looked beyond uncomfortable to sleep.

“Very specific, Ryan.” Brendon replied, trying to add humor to lift Ryan’s quickly sinking spirits. He only groaned in response, his hands slipping down to cover his face. “Okay, it’s okay.” Brendon hushed, placing a hand on his back and patting between his shoulder blades. Ryan leaned into him and rested his head against Brendon’s chest.

“I feel like shit.”

“I know.”

“And I’m tired.”

“I know.”

“And I’m cold.”

“I know, Ryan.” Brendon continued to rub Ryan’s back as he sighed and pressed against him. “Wait, let me get up for a second. I’ll be _right_ back.”

Ryan grumbled disagreements as he moved away from Brendon and fell back onto his pillow. Dottie scurried over to begin licking his face while Penny circled and sat between his knees. Bogart hopped off the bed and followed Brendon out of their bedroom and down to the kitchen.

Brendon wasn’t really sure what one does for someone who has every symptom, but he assumed hot water with honey and lemon was the best option; it would at least ease his throat so talking no longer felt like rubbing nails over sandpaper. He plugged in the kettle, checking to make sure it had enough water before turning it on and beginning his search for a mug. Most of the mugs in the cabinets were small- regular mugs for regular cups of coffee- but Brendon knew they had one that was practically a birdbath with a handle. Typically, it was for eating out of, but Brendon figured the more hot water and steam, the better. He just didn’t know _where_ he put it.

Brendon was standing on the tips of his toes, shifting and sliding mugs trying to find the right one. Finally, as he began removing them from the cabinet, he found it wedged in the corner just beyond his reach; Ryan had definitely emptied the dishwasher last. He placed it on the counter beside the kettle and began digging through the refrigerator for a lemon to cut. Brendon couldn’t remember the last time they had gone grocery shopping, but he trusted Ryan’s habit of never letting them starve. Brendon had his head in the fridge, but could still hear the pattering sounds of eight small paws tottering down the stairs.

“Dottie, Pen-Pen, what are you doing? Go back up and stay with Ryan.” Brendon called, opening the bottom drawer and finally finding a lemon that looked like it could have been under a week old.

“They are.” Ryan muttered, shuffling into the kitchen.

“What are you doing? Go back to bed.” Brendon cried, closing the fridge and pointing Ryan back in the direction of the stairs. Ryan walked past him and leaned against the counter, arms pulled into the long sleeves of a sweatshirt from his hockey league. It was meant for the artificially frozen weather of an ice rink. It was the middle of July. “What are you doing?”

“I got cold.” Ryan stated, lifting his shoulders and letting the hood fall and gather around his neck.

“So you left our warm, blanket-covered bed?” Brendon asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Ryan nodded slowly, rubbing the sides of his arms. “Uh-huh.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Brendon muttered. He opened a drawer for a knife, cutting the lemon in half, and squeezing the two halves into the mug. “I’m not even sick and I never want to leave our bed.”

“It was cold.” Ryan repeated, shuffling over to him. “You caused a draft.”

“Oh, I see.” Brendon laughed, lifting an arm for Ryan to slide under. “You came downstairs for me.”

“Your warmth. Don’t flatter yourself.” Ryan corrected, resting his head on Brendon’s shoulder. “The dogs aren’t _quite_ as helpful as a full-sized human being.”

“Full-sized? I am smaller than you.”

“Finally, you admitted it.” Ryan snorted, laughing in Brendon’s neck. Brendon rolled his eyes and leaned against his head, only pulling away when Ryan began coughing and sniffling. Brendon craned his neck away, but didn’t want to push Ryan away entirely. “Sorry.” Ryan sighed, once he regained a full, even breath.

“It’s okay.” Brendon assured him, pretending to wipe invisible spit and germs off his neck. “I’ll just die of this mystery plague, or whatever it is you have, and you’ll have to just replace me in the band.”

“Can you wait until I get better to die?” Ryan asked, rubbing his eyes as they drooped with fatigue.

“Of course, babe. Of course.” Brendon assured him, squeezing his shoulder and keeping him upright as he reached over for the beeping kettle. “I’ll wait.”

“Thanks.” His hands fell from his face to his sides as he went more limp against Brendon.

“Okay, Ryan, before you completely pass out, at least start to drink this.” Brendon nudged Ryan awake and slid the mug toward him.

Ryan reached out and took it slowly, Brendon holding his hands out underneath the mug to prevent both of them from getting third-degree burns from Ryan’s tired grip. He sipped it slowly, his face contorted as his lips left the mug.

“Is this just hot lemon juice?” Ryan asked, staring down into the mug. His blinking was slow and delayed as he tried to decipher what he was drinking.

“Oh! Shit. No. I forgot the honey. Hold on.” Brendon held a finger up to Ryan as he reached into the cabinet with the other hand, fishing out the honey and then grabbing a spoon. “I kind of forgot the most important part.” He admitted sheepishly, pouring honey onto the spoon before dropping it in Ryan’s mug. Of _course_ he did. Brendon tried to do something nice for someone who always knows what to do when _he_ felt shitty, but he could barely get past the second damn ingredient.

Ryan sipped it again, his expression relaxing as he lifted both hands to clutch the mug. “I forgive you.”

“Does that mean you’ll go back to bed now?” Brendon was already placing his arm around Ryan’s shoulders and leading him toward the stairs as he spoke. Ryan made no objections and shuffled along beside him. The only sound Ryan made was the quiet humming of comfort as the steam swirled around his face.

Their three dogs trailed behind them as they made their way slowly up the stairs to their bedroom, Brendon easing Ryan onto his side of the bed. He propped the pillows against the headboard so Ryan would be less likely to cough, and made sure he threw another blanket onto the bed before pulling the covers over Ryan’s legs. He crawled into his side of the bed and smoothed the covers bunched by Ryan’s elbows as he watched him sip Brendon’s attempt at a homemade remedy.

“Is that okay? Is it helping at all?”

“A little.” Ryan nodded, holding the mug to his chest. “I’m still really cold though.” He sighed pretending to shudder. “So _so_ cold.”

Brendon rolled his eyes before breaking into a smile. “I’ll sit with you as long as you promise to at least turn your head when you cough.”

“I’ll see what I can do with my draining, _fading_ mobility…” Ryan said, his voice flat. Brendon shook his head as he shifted closer to Ryan and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He wanted to jab back, but Ryan’s eyes were still half-lidded with exhaustion. He’d let Ryan win that one.

“Come here and stop shivering.” Brendon said, squeezing Ryan’s shoulder and kissing his temple. He ignored the way his burning skin contrasted with the genuine shivering rippling across his body. He just kept smiling at Ryan as he looked over at him.

“I feel better already.” Ryan barely spoke above a whisper, his words getting lost in his barely opened lips and heavy tongue.

“I think you’re just getting tired, Ry.” Brendon offered, placing a hand on his leg. Ryan disagreed with a lazy shake of the head- and jerky cough. “Oh, okay. You’re right.” Brendon hummed quietly.

Within the next ten minutes, Ryan’s head began to fall to the side, resting against Brendon’s. Brendon was sure to carefully pull the mug from his grip and place it on the nightstand; Ryan didn’t need to spill it in his sleep. Coughing and wheezing was enough, he didn’t need third-degree burns. As Brendon settled back down beside Ryan, Ryan turned and nestled into his side, his legs pulling up and making him an inconvenient ball of human being for Brendon to try and cuddle. Ryan mumbled quietly in his sleep as Brendon tried to slip his arms around him comfortably.

“What was that, Ry?” Brendon whispered, trying to lean closer to his mouth. “I didn’t catch that.”

“’se ‘on’t ‘ie.” Ryan sighed, gripping the front of Brendon’s shirt with a loose grip, his head nestling beside it.

“What, babe?”

“Please don’t die.” Ryan repeated.

“Okay, Ryan.” Brendon laughed, placing a hand on Ryan’s head and kissing the top of it. “I won’t. I’ll be here, awake and alive, the whole time. I promised.”

“Good.” Ryan let out a contented sigh as his eyes closed finally. “I love you.”

“You don’t have to say that because I am keeping you warm.” Brendon told him, petting down his hair. “But I love you too, Ryan.”

**Author's Note:**

> It was really only a matter of time before I wrote a sickfic.  
> If you have any suggestions for new ficlets, let me know here, or on my tumblr (@breakfastbeebo)!


End file.
